Places the Chip Could've Been
by potatozrule
Summary: Beginning with where it was.
1. (The Courier Survives)

The Chip is being brought to the Strip by courier.

Until it isn't.

They separate, paths diverge, apart. One to the Strip and one to a shallow grave.

Of course, that's not where the story ends.

" _... two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you, but they're just numbers..."_

The courier is _the Courier_ in short order, blinking in the brightest sun they've ever seen. Every day in the Mojave is its' own small war, survival v. the wasteland, and the Courier will survive. There is nothing to do but fight and listen to the radio.

This person, this other, this Courier who shifts sand as they walk, as they carry the desert in their eyes, the grave in their chest, survives.

" _... playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble..."_

Primm, Nipton, Novac, Jacobstown, Nelson, Nellis, Bitter Springs, Boulder City, Camp Searchlight, Ranger Stations, trading posts, the Courier sees it all.

And then, the Strip.

New Vegas in all her glory, beacon at the heart of the wastes, a couple layers of gossamer and neon hiding a rotting corpse.

The lights are too bright, here, and they blind the senses.

Finish the job, but there are _choices_ now, and the Courier has to make them.

Could hide, could vanish. Freeside, North Vegas Square, they would give refuge to the losing, to the lost.

Won't hide though. There's nothing to do but fight and listen to the radio, so that's what the Courier does.

" _... spinning on the wheel, more than two at the table. Placing bets. All lose..."_

Can't hide, still runs. Just for a while.

The Madre, the tribes, the Big Empty.

Delaying choices or choosing them, who can say.

The Courier fights, endures, survives. Platinum Chip burning a hole in pocket, pack, soul.

And then, the Divide.

" _... lives in you, hard to kill. Storm, bullets, sand and wind..."_

The Divide screams, demands recollection. And then there's only one thing left to do.

One choice made from many.

NCR, House, Legion. Independence.

The Courier will fight and listen to the radio. The Courier will choose.

" _... know what you follow..."_

Chip in hand, bullets in head, power in choosing.

Platinum catches the light as the Courier flips it, like a coin.

Two paths converge, overlap, become.

The chip is with the Courier. The Courier survives.

" _... supposed to be dead!_

 _I got better."_


	2. (There is no Brotherhood)

The Brotherhood makes a point of protecting mankind from itself. The only thing tying them together is that idea. Loyalty, blood, they're not enough.

In a little place called Hidden Valley, the Brotherhood is dying.

Sure, they've gathered up pulse guns and holograms and even the ARCHIMEDES project, but it's cold comfort to the dwindling number of scribes and paladins.

The bunker is a tomb of odds and ends, circuit boards and targeting chips litter the hall and most of the turrets have fallen to disrepair. There are still secrets hanging in the air, shimmering like heat, but there aren't enough people left to reach for them.

* * *

The year is 2296, and Elder Veronica disbands the chapter, scatters her family on the wind, and sits at her desk one last time. The silence cushions her senses, wraps her up in peace and comfort, time flowing like tar.

Her fingers run along the bottom of the desk, and she really should feel more surprised when she hits a switch. A section of the desk slides back, reveals a holotape and an envelope of thick paper. She shoves the tape into her terminal with clumsy fingers. One more secret then, even if there's no more Brotherhood. The audio shatters her quiet world.

* * *

"This is Senior Scribe Michaelson. It is October 29th, 2097. Recording this record on an isolated terminal, to be destroyed on the Head Scribe's orders once the tape is finished.

Enclosed within this package is an item designated Artifact 267. It appears to be a casino chip made for the Lucky 38 Casino. Scans reveal that it is actually an advanced piece of software. We have been unable to determine the object's intended purpose, only that is is generations ahead of the tech currently found in the Mojave area.

The fate of Artifact 267 is left to the Elder, though we are hesitant to destroy it.

I must... Our work must continue after me. Our mission must continue after me.

Artifact 267 is left to the Brotherhood in the hope that-"

She stops the holotape.

* * *

In another world, or even just ten years earlier, Veronica has bright eyes and the desire to know everything. There, she rips open the envelope and sets off for the Strip. You can't protect what you don't understand, she will justify, so she must understand this!

For the Brotherhood!

Here, she doesn't.

* * *

In this world, she simply drops the small package to the floor with a muffled _clink_. In this world she has old eyes and has saved her family or damned them, has made a choice with an uncertain end. She does not know if her family will survive.

There is no Brotherhood here.

* * *

Elder Veronica pulls on her powerfist and swipes three keycards in her terminal. By the time she hears the explosion she's already fifty feet from the bunker and still moving. In her heart, in the depths of her soul, she somehow still believes in protecting mankind.

* * *

Steel warps, shatters. Rock falls, wasteland filling up what used to be a home.

Flames roar and Platinum wilts, withers into nothing.

The chip is with the Brotherhood. There is no Brotherhood.

* * *

" _... always known that. If we don't change course, we're going to fall apart... or fade..."_


End file.
